


A Study in Friendship

by pleasant_grendel



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, Femlock, Genderbending, Genderswap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-18
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-08 21:23:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/766167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleasant_grendel/pseuds/pleasant_grendel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A teenage fem!lock AU. Joan is a new student at St. Bart's private school who soon befriends her classmate: the beautiful and mysterious Sherlock Holmes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sherlock hated school. She hated the dimwitted teachers and their novel curriculum. She hated the forced fun atmosphere, the bland food, and worst of all Sherlock absolutely hated the students. Until Joan came that is.

One Monday there was a new student. The homeroom teacher had made her awkwardly stand in front of the class and introduce herself.

"My name is Joan Watson", the new student stated firmly. She was short with bobbed honey blonde hair and seemed comfortable in (what would be for other students) a bit of an unnerving position especially because she had an injured leg and was standing a crutch that was tad bit tall for her.

"Miss Watson is very bright. She's transferring from the public school", Proclaimed the teacher in an obnoxiously cheery tone. "Let's all give her a warm welcome!"

The class let out a uniform, "Welcome Joan."

"You may take that open seat next to Sherry." She pointed Joan in the direction of Sherlock. The thin, dark haired girl was looking off to her left; her chin resting on her palm. Joan made her way to the back of the room and sat down next her. _Well, better say "hello" then_ Joan thought to herself.

"Hi. You're Sherry?" No response. "Right, then", Joan turned and looked straight ahead, trying not to seem embarrassed. The dark haired girl blinked.

"Oh. I wasn't paying attention."

"You're name's Sherry…"

"No it is not." She retorted.

"But the teacher said-"

"My name is Sherlock Holmes. Never call me Sherry again and you better not listen to a bit of what that teacher says. She's a twit."

"Right," Joan muttered. The first minute here and she was already making a fool of herself. Either that or this girl with the weird name had serious stick up her ass. Sherlock, what a strange name that was! _Seriously who the hell names their kid Sherlock?_ Suddenly she turned her head to look at Joan.

"You're new?"  
Joan let out a giggle, "You really weren't paying any attention, were you?"

"I find it best to block out it all. Like I said, she's an idiot. Homeroom is the most horrid waste of time. It only gives the teachers here with the least amount of ability something to do so they don't get in the way of the real teaching. Students just blatantly misuse the time to ogle at each other pathetically and idiotically swap gossip as if they couldn't better use the time to study like they should have at home. I actually do my assignments before school which leaves me nothing better to do than just sit peacefully and try to block it all out. Waste. Of. Time."

"Huh, wow" Joan couldn't help but let a smirk slowly form across her face. "Well, my name's Joan. Joan Watson. I'm new and I…" before she could finished the alarm rang and Sherlock rose to leave. "…I guess we'll be sitting next to each other from now on." The dark hair girl was already out the door and all Joan could do was sit in that spot, dumbfounded.

As Joan made her way to class she couldn't stop thinking about the girl with the strange name. She was rude and pretentious, but there was something about her that Joan found intriguing. _Well_ , Joan thought _I'm sure will get to know each quite quickly_ and she found her next class.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day Joan had come in late to homeroom. As she made her way to back of the room some the students were snickering as she struggled to get by on her crutch. She finally reached her seat when the teacher said, “I know you might be having trouble, Miss Watson, but if you’re late again I’ll have to write you up.”  
“Yes, ma’am”, Joan replied stoically. Some of the students continued to snicker at her formality. As Joan sat down she let out a deep sigh.  
“You aren’t going to be able to get anywhere with that thing”, Sherlock said glancing at the crutch. Joan was extremely irritated with her snobby schoolmate’s obvious statement.  
“Yes, I am aware of that.”  
“What was their name?”  
Joan turned to face Sherlock and let out a puzzled, “What?”  
“The reason you switched schools; the reason for your leg.”  
“How did you…”  
“Because you haven’t mastered walking on that crutch yet and you seem like a somewhat athletic girl, which tells me this happened very recently. So recently that it must coincide with your switching schools. The other students laugh at you, but you ignore them and try to let it look like it doesn’t bother you. Common behaviors of someone who’s been bullied. This leads me to believe that the reason for your transferring is that you got into a tiff with a bully. That you, Joan Watson, are now at this private institution because along with being incredibly bright, your guardian is also concerned for your well being. Is that right?”  
Joan stared at her with a bewildered look. “Wow.” A slight smirk built upon her face. “That was…something.” Although she hated to admit it because of Sherlock’s pretentious demeanor Joan couldn’t help but to be impressed.  
“How did you know all of that?”  
“Deduction. I like to think I’ve mastered the science.”  
“Science, eh? Well, that’s pretty cool, I have to admit.”  
“Really?” Sherlock asked surprised. “That’s not what people usually say.”  
“What do people usually say?”  
“‘Piss off!’” The dark haired girl let out a giggle. As cold as Sherlock seems her laugh was warm and inviting. Joan couldn’t help but to join in the laughter.  
“Girls, quiet down!” the teacher snapped.  
“Ooh, my apologies Anderson” Sherlock replied in the most sarcastic tone. The dim witted teacher looked enraged, but held her tongue. Joan noticed that when Sherlock laughed her sharp cheeks flushed turning her porcelain skin a light pink. _Wow_ , Joan thought, _she’s really pretty, isn’t she_? Their laughter cooled down and Joan was brought back from her thoughts.  
“She lets you get away with that?”  
“She knows who my sister is” Sherlock replied matter-of-factly.  
“Oh? And who’s your sister?”  
“She works for the government. That’s all I’m allowed to say, but if I wanted to I could have her fired with a snap of my fingers.”  
“Well, then why don’t you if you hate Ms. Anderson so much?”  
“It’s too much work to get in touch with the ole’ sis. Besides I like having power over the idoit.”  
Joan looked at her trying to hide her amazement. “You really are something,” she said turning her seat back toward the front of the class.  
“Thank you” Sherlock beamed, ignoring the fact that the statement was rhetorical. The alarm sounded and the girls went off on their separate ways.  
Classes had ended and Joan stared out into the street. Still a bit unfamiliar with her surroundings Joan tried to remember her way to the tube. Suddenly a cab pulled up in front of her. The window was rolled down and Sherlock’s head popped out.  
“Get in, we’re going to study!”  
“A bit forward aren’t we?” Joan couldn’t quite believe this girl.  
“We’re in the same advanced chemistry class. Today is only your second day. I’m sure you could use some help.”  
“You sound pretty sure of that,” Joan smirked.  
“Yes. And like I said you’ll never get anywhere on that damned thing.”  
Joan looked down at her leg and crutch. Then looking up at the sky she saw that it was about to rain. “Aw, what the hell!” Sherlock grinned at her success. “Move over” said the blonde. She climbed into the cab, shut the door, and they were off.


	3. Chapter 3

The cab stopped in front of Sherlock’s flat. The dark haired girl handed the driver the fare and the two girls stepped out into the rain. _221B Baker Street next to a sandwich shop_ , Joan took a mental note of the location so she knew where to tell her father to pick her up.  
Sherlock unlocked the door and the two went inside. “Come in quick before you catch a cold!” Joan heard an older man’s voice shout.  
“Good afternoon, Mr. Hudson. I don’t suppose Mycroft’s popped by today” Sherlock said while making her way up the stairs.  
“Not today, love. Sorry! Now, hold on!” Sherlock stopped. The man got of his chair and approached the pair. “Sherlock Holmes! Do you have a guest?” He chuckled and extended a hand to the short blonde. “I’m Mr. Hudson, Sherlock and Mycroft’s landlord. And you are?”  
“Joan Watson. Pleasure to meet you” She smiled.  
“Sherlock never has guests! Goodness, you’re the first person I’ve ever seen come home with her! Oh you poor dear, you’re nearly soaked! Sherlock, help her up the stairs. I’ll fix you two some tea.” Mr. Hudson was very excited about her visit and Joan could tell that he wasn’t exaggerating when he said that Sherlock never had guest. Although she was a bit arrogant, Sherlock seemed like a very private person. She wondered why Sherlock had invited her over, especially since they had only met just a day ago.  
“Some biscuits would be nice too, Mr. Hudson” Sherlock called from up the stairs. She had completely ignored his request to help Joan. _Hard to believe she never has any guest_ the blonde sarcastically thought to herself.  
“Just this once, dear! I’m not your housekeeper you know!” Mr. Hudson shouted from out of Joan’s view.  
Joan looked up at the stairway and let out a sigh. “Best get started then.”

After what seemed like hours, Joan finally made it to the top of the stairs. She opened up the door and stepped into the Holmes’ flat. Joan had never seen anything like it (save for perhaps on television).  
The flat had a Victorian style to it, decorated in rich jewel tones with red walls and a single black & white brocade patterned wall. There were long curtains on the windows, along with bookshelves, and a fireplace. The floor was covered with piles of books, chemistry sets, glass beakers, and many other artifacts. It was the exact opposite of Joan’s home, which was white walled and plain.  
She was too busy taking in the wonders of the Holmes’ flat to notice that Sherlock was lounging on a coach off to the side. She had used the time to change out of her St. Bart’s school uniform into a button down purple blouse, black jeans, and black trainers. “You were long.”  
“Yeah, well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed…” She looked down and nodded at her injury.  
“Oh!” Sherlock jumped up onto the couch. “I’ll be right back. Stay right there!” She hopped over books and other various items going deeper into the flat out of Joan’s sight.  
“Where am I going to go?” Joan called out after her, but the taller girl was already gone. Joan looked at the couch that Sherlock had been laying on. There was a violin at the edge of it and Joan wondered if Sherlock played or if it was another random trinket in the flat.  
“Here!” Sherlock was back rather quickly. She was standing behind Joan holding out a cane. It was black with a curved handle. The handle matched the red on the walls and had a gold trim at the end.  
“Wow! Is this your sister’s?”  
“Yes. I’m sure she has others and if not, hell, she can use an umbrella! It’s all for show anyway.”  
Joan didn’t know what to say. This gift seemed very generous from someone like Sherlock. Did this mean that they were friends now? Joan looked up at Sherlock to find her smiling sweetly. Joan knew now that this was not only a gift, but an invitation. Joan giggled. “Thank you.” She saw Sherlock’s light blue eyes beam.  
“Right, then, you have your text book with you?” Sherlock asked. The two girls sat down on the wooden floor and studied comfortably for the rest of the afternoon.


	4. Chapter 4

It had been a week since Joan had started at her new school. She had notice that not many people had tried to make her acquaintance; some giggled as she limped by, but nothing more than that. Joan thought it best not to confront them when they laughed at her. She didn’t want a repeat of the incident that gave her the injury in the first place. Joan wasn’t too bothered by her lack of acquaintances because at least she had one friend.  
Everyday Sherlock waited for Joan to get into a cab with her and spend the afternoon studying at the Holmes’ flat. Mostly they just studied. They never did anything that Joan considered typical of teenage girls. No talk of boys, no gossip, and no mention of popular culture. Joan knew that Sherlock Holmes was no ordinary girl, but she didn’t mind. Sherlock was interesting and Joan enjoyed her company.  
Joan noticed that like herself Sherlock was left alone by the other students. It was safe to assume that this was because every time one of their classmates opened their mouths Sherlock was quick to insult their intelligence. She never did this to Joan though. She didn’t understand this, but she wasn’t complaining. Joan figured it was better to have one good friend (no matter how idiosyncratic) than many ill acquaintances.  
Joan had been recovering rather quickly. Her injury wasn’t too bad, it wasn’t broken or fractured, but she still wasn’t able to walk at her usual brisk pace. She was sick with a bad cold. This combined with her injury made Joan feel quite under the weather. Because of this Joan’s father allowed her to stay home from school.  
She was resting on her bed re-reading a J. R. R. Tolkien book when she heard a knocking on her door.   
“Come in.” She was puzzled as to who it could be. Her sister, Harry, never knocks, and her father was off at work. _Sherlock?_ Joan thought.  
“Um, hello. Your sister let me in.” It was a boy with light reddish-brown hair wearing a St. Bart’s uniform. “My name’s Oliver. Oliver Hooper, but most everyone calls me Ollie. I’m in your physiology course. I was asked to bring over your homework.”  
“Oh, thank you.” He took out the homework from his shoulder bag and stood there awkwardly in the doorway.  
“You can sit down if you want” Joan motioned toward the chair at her desk.  
“Thanks” Ollie smiled pulling out the chair and sitting down. “So, how do you like St. Bart’s so far?”  
“It’s alright, I suppose. I’m still getting adjusted to everything.”  
“Oh, right because…”  
“Because of what?” Joan asked. Ollie nodded his head toward Joan’s leg. “Oh, yeah, that.”  
“How’d it happen?” Joan didn’t look at Ollie. Her eyes remained fixated on her injury. “That is, if you don’t mind me asking.”  
Joan was brought back, “I’m sorry, but I’d rather not talk about it.”  
“I’m sorry” He replied nervously.  
“It’s alright, really.”  
“Well, if you ever need help with our class I’m your guy!” He smiled “Or if you ever need a friend to talk to…” Ollie rose from his seat to leave “Speaking of which, you’re friends with Sherlock Holmes right?”  
“Yes, I am.”  
“She’s great isn’t she?”  
“Yes,” Joan said “but she’s a bit…”  
“Odd” they both said simultaneously. The two let out a chuckle.  
“Um, are you and her…” He started.  
“Are we what?”  
“You know…” For a moment Joan was confused as to what Ollie meant then it hit her.  
“Oh, no. No, we’re not…We’re just friends.” She could feel her face flush. “Besides I’ve only know her for a week.” _What did I mean by that?_ thought Joan.  
“Okay, do you know if she’s with anyone?” Ollie kept his eyes glued to the ground. She could see that he was embarrassed and couldn’t help but to feel embarrassed too.  
“No, I don’t think she’s the dating type.” Joan wasn’t sure what to say and it seemed that Ollie didn’t either so the two stayed silent for a moment.  
“Well, I hope you feel better” Ollie finally said.  
“Thank you. And thanks for dropping by with my work.”  
“You’re welcome. I’m sorry if I was forward. I don’t do this very often.”  
Joan smiled, “Me neither. It was nice to meet you Ollie Hooper.”  
Ollie relaxed, smiled back, and shook Joan’s hand, “Like wise Joan Watson. I’ll see you at school!”  
After Ollie left Joan laid there in silence with only her thoughts. Ollie seemed nice. He was a bit awkward, but Joan could see herself becoming friends with him. She thought it was strange that he fancied Sherlock though, since no one in their class seemed to like Sherlock. What was even stranger was her reaction to his question about Joan and Sherlock dating. Why did she blush and get so frazzled?  
Joan had never been particularly interested in boys or girls, but there was no denying that Sherlock was beautiful and a very interesting person. Joan had never quite thought about being romantically involved with anyone until now. _Well_ , Joan thought, _I guess I can just sleep on all this_. She closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath.


	5. Chapter 5

A few days later Joan was feeling better. She was a bit early arriving to school that cloudy, grey morning. While observing the sky Joan spotted a dark figure on the edge of the roof of St. Bart’s. _The hell?_ As she focused her vision Joan saw her friend sitting on the roof with her feet dangling over.  
“Sherlock!” Joan screamed. She ran closer to the building. “What the bloody hell are you doing?!”  
Unmoving, she spoke, but Joan couldn’t hear her. Sherlock was too far up.  
“Shit!” Joan rushed inside. _What do I do? What do I do?_ She ran up the stairwell quickly as she could, made it to the top story, and frantically looked around for a way up to the roof. Joan found a door marked “DO NOT ENTER” and pushed her way through.  
Up on the roof Sherlock was still sitting. “Sherlock! Come away from the edge!” She turned around to see Joan, who was out of breath, watery eyed. A cigarette dangled from her mouth and Sherlock’s cold blue eyes were as apathetic as ever.  
“Your leg…” Sherlock took out her cigarette. She wore tattered violet knit gloves and had her dark curls pushed into a messy bun atop her head.  
“What?”  
“Your leg: it was psychosomatic.”  
Joan removed her gaze from Sherlock and stood there stunned. It took her a moment to realize that she didn’t have her cane; that she must have dropped it when she saw Sherlock and ran up to the roof.  
“I knew it!” Sherlock began “I knew there was no way someone with a real leg injury could get around with just a cane or crutch like that. It had to be psychosomatic!”  
Joan could feel her olive skin turn red hot as her hands rolled into fist. “You-you…” She started, but regardless of how angry she was she couldn’t bring herself to curse at Sherlock. “You tricked me into running up here to prove a point? You had me think you were going to do something stupid so you could prove a bloody point?! So you could say, ‘I knew it’!”  
Sherlock furrowed her brow and for the first time she could ever remember she was frightened. “Joan…” She stepped toward the blonde placing a hand gently on Joan’s shoulder. Sherlock spoke softly. “I wasn’t trying to trick you. I’m…” She swallowed, “I’m sorry. Really, I am.” Joan looked up at the icy blue eyes hidden behind black curls and could see that they were sincere.  
“What are you doing up here then?”  
“Thinking. I like to come up here before school sometimes and think. I enjoy the quiet.” She took a drag on her cigarette before stomping it out.  
“Smoking’s unhealthy”, Joan smirked. “You of all people should know that.”  
“You’re right. I do know that, but as they say old habits die hard.” The two girls laughed soft and nervously. Sherlock rolled up her sleeve to check her watch. “Well then, we better get to class. Don’t want to be tardy.” She began to walk toward the door, but Joan stood still.  
“Sherlock”, she let out with a sigh. The tall girl spun around.  
“Yes, Joan?”  
“Jem. Jem was her name; the reason for my leg.”  
“Oh.”  
“She was expelled and to my knowledge is in a juvenile detention center.” Sherlock nodded.  
“Thank you for telling me, Joan.”  
“No, thank you. Thanks for…” She looked down at her now cured leg. “Thanks.” She smiled and her best friend smiled back.


	6. Chapter 6

“Joan! Joan!” She turned around to see Ollie Hooper running through the hallway with her cane in hand.  
“Hi, Ollie.”  
“I’m glad to see that you’re doing so much better! Here, I think this belongs to you. I found it outside.”  
“Thanks” said Joan, taking the cane from him.  
“Do you mind if I walk with you to our class?”  
“Not at all” Joan smiled at the boy and they made their way through the slightly crowded corridor.  
“So, how did you recover so quickly?” asked Ollie. Joan could tell that he was trying very hard to make conversation.  
“Let’s just say I had a little help from a friend” She smiled. As they made their way to class, Joan could feel a shiver down her back. Quickly she turned around. She didn’t know what she expected. Nothing was there that was out of the ordinary; just a corridor full of students. “Are you alright?” Ollie asked.  
Joan sighed, still looking behind her, “Yeah. I-I’m fine.”

As the two students began to take their seats Joan felt a buzz in her pocket of her uniform skirt. She reached inside grabbing her phone trying to think who would text her. The text read, “Bored. SH”  
“What?” Joan whispered.  
“What is it?” Their teacher quickly shhed them. “What is it?” Ollie repeated in a more hushed tone.  
“I’ve got a text; no one ever texts me.” _Who the hell signs their text?_ Joan thought. _Wait_. Joan texted back: “Sherlock?”  
“Yes. This is Joan isn’t it? SH”  
“Who is it?” Ollie asked.  
“It’s Sherlock.”  
“Oh! Hey, uh, could you do me a favour, please?” Joan looked at him puzzled, but then immediately knew what he was thinking.  
“Sure” _But how do I word that?_ Joan clutched the phone in her hand positioning it under desk so the teacher wouldn’t be able to see. She began to slowly type, “Bored? Okay, I’ll talk to you then. Just wondering, are you single?” _Oh my goodness! Could I have been sound any less weird asking her that?_  
Ollie leaned in whispering, “What does she say?”  
Joan looked at her phone “Yes. I considered myself married to my academics. SH”  
“She said she’s single”  
“Yeah?”  
“But she’s not really interested in anyone. Sorry.” Ollie sighed as Joan felt another buzz from the phone in her hand.  
“Why? Did Ollie ask you to ask me this? SH”  
Joan stifled her laughter. “Yes! How did you know?”  
“It’s a bit obvious isn’t it? He’s always staring at me like a lost puppy. SH”  
Joan giggled. Ollie looked excited “What is it? What else did she say?”  
“Oh, uh, nothing. She’s just telling me about someone in her class.” _Poor Ollie. He does come off a bit strong though_. Joan went back to texting Sherlock “He’s nice though. He brought me my schoolwork when I was sick and returned my cane to me. And he’s the only one besides you who talks to me.”  
“Yes, he does prove to be helpful from time to time. SH” Joan smiled at Ollie who was now concentrating on his schoolbook. Although she really did like him Joan was glad Sherlock wasn’t interested in him. She thought Sherlock might be too tough on Ollie’s kind spirit. He seemed so trusting. Joan knew much better than to trust too easily.

Sherlock and Joan continued to text throughout the rest of the class period. Their conversation mostly consisted of Sherlock complaining about how boring her class was because she had already taught herself all of the materials with Joan trying to make her laugh. Sherlock (not to Joan’s surprised) never replied with a “lol” or “haha”, but rather “That’s funny” which Joan hoped was the truth. Walking out of her class Joan felt another text come through her phone. _Sherlock, I’ll see you in a few minutes_. Looking at her phone she read the text, “I see you. –M” _M?_  
Quickly she texted back, “Sherlock?”  
As she waited for the reply Joan felt that same uneasiness from before, except this time there was a stronger sense of urgency. After what seemed like a decade the phone buzzed again.  
“Who’s Sherlock? –M” With this Joan involuntarily spun around on her heel to face the direction that the unnerving feeling was coming from. She saw the usual cloud of rumbling students, but down the corridor she could see someone out of place; a tall, blonde girl in a dark leather jacket.  
“Hey!” Joan called out to her and with this the blonde girl turned left and ran down the stairs. Joan tried to push by the many students in the corridor, running and tripping. The other students making remarks and insults as she ran by, but Joan blocked this out and continued after the blonde. She practically jumped over all the stairs and flew through the next corridor, hot on the blonde girls trail until they were at the entrance to the school. The other girl was still a few feet ahead when she had left the building. Joan pushed though the floor so hard that she fell hard on the ground outside. By the time she got up the other girl was gone leaving Joan alone and confused.

“You seem very quiet” Sherlock said putting down her violin after finishing a song.  
“Huh?” Joan was sitting on an armchair with her chin resting upon her palm. She looked up at Sherlock, “Oh, it was lovely.”  
Sherlock eyed her, hands in pockets. Joan hadn’t spoken for the entirety of the ride to the flat as well as for the time they were there. “Thank you…” Sherlock plopped down on one of the chair’s armrests “Are you alright?”  
“Yeah, I’m fine.”  
“You know,” Sherlock smirked “I’m supposed to be the quiet, profound one here.”  
Joan let out a spark of laughter. “Oh, really now? No, Sherlock I’m fine. Really it’s just been a very long day. You write that?”  
“Mhm”  
“What do you call it?”  
Sherlock bit her lip, thinking for a moment, and then looked at Joan intently “Yeux bleu foncé” She beamed proudly even flushing a bit.  
“What does that mean?” Joan asked with a slight puzzled grin.  
“I’ll see if Mr. Hudson will fix us some tea!” Sherlock popped up like bread from a toaster and ran downstairs. _Sherlock can speak French?_ It seemed that with everyday Joan was finding out something new about her new friend. Joan rubbed her left shoulder lightly. She wondered how long it would take Sherlock to discover everything about her.


	7. Chapter 7

Joan was lying on the couch in the Holmes flat. Usually Sherlock laid on the couch while Joan sat in the armchair opposite, but Sherlock was in the kitchen conducting some experiments. Seeing the opportunity to be more comfortable Joan planted herself there. She was cozy; her face pressed against a cushion she caught a whiff of Sherlock’s scent. Joan breathed it in and closed her eyes. What am I doing? Joan thought to herself. Joan was finding it nearly impossible not to start fancying Sherlock. They had known each other for about a month and had spent almost every minute together so it was hard for Joan not become accustomed (even liking) to Sherlock’s strange habits. For example, Sherlock’s performing strange and seemingly useless experiments.

“What are you doing over here?” Joan had decided to leave the comfort of the coach and investigate her friend’s current endeavors.   
“An experiment.”  
“Well, obviously.” Sherlock turned to Joan raising an eyebrow. Her dark curls were toppled on top of her head in a messy bun and she was wearing safety goggles along with plastic gloves. She was wearing her usual purple button down blouse with dark jeans. Joan had to try very hard not to admire Sherlock’s figure. She had never thought she would ever fancy anyone, never a girl, or rather, never a girl as eccentric as Sherlock Holmes.  
“I’m looking to see how many different kinds of tobacco ash there are.”  
Joan gave Sherlock a puzzled looked, “Why?”  
“Because it might be of some use to me one day.”  
Joan laughed at her friend’s ridiculousness, “Oh yeah, but the way the solar system works won’t?”  
Sherlock turned back towards her work clearly annoyed, “No. That has yet to be important.”  
“Important?! Sherlock that’s primary school stuff! Ask any six-year-old and they can tell you that the Earth revolves around the sun.”  
“I am not a random six-year-old Joan. I am a detective in training! Why should I bother learning things that are of such minute importance?”  
“Okay fine. Tell me then how is it important for you to know the differences between tobacco ashes?”  
“Nearly everyone in this city smokes, Joan. Even I do. Such knowledge can aid in identify a body, a killer, etc.”  
Joan sighed, “Sometimes you can be so utterly silly.”  
“Silly?!” Sherlock screeched. “How…you…I am the most…” Her face flushed in frustration while Joan tried to stop herself grinning from pure infatuation. When Sherlock flushed she just couldn’t help but find it absolutely adorable.  
“Stop laughing at me!”  
“I’m not laughing.”   
“You think I’m an idiot, don’t you?” Sherlock’s eyes were glossy behind the goggles.  
“What?”  
“Nothing,” she mumbled, looking away from Joan.  
“Sherlock, I wasn’t laughing at you. I just…”  
“Forget it.” Joan pushed a hand through her hair. She wasn’t sure if what she was going to do next was wise, but she felt it to be completely necessary.  
“What are you doing?” Sherlock asked Joan who had her arms around her waist. Joan’s head rested on the taller girl’s chest while Sherlock’s arms dangled awkwardly at her sides.  
“I’m sorry. You’re brilliant. You’re my best friend and you are most definitely not an idiot. Don’t ever think that for a second.”  
Sherlock scoffed “I don’t.” Joan could hear the doubt in the other girl’s voice, but chose not to press on the matter. Sherlock lifted her arms and wrapped them around Joan’s shoulders. “Thank you though,” she said quietly.  
Joan’s eyes were closed and she was enjoying the moment until she smelt something burning. “Sherlock?” She glanced up at her friend to that she also had her eyes closed.  
“Hmm?”  
“Sherlock, I think something’s- Sherlock!” Joan felt her head become hot. Realizing that Sherlock still had the candle lighter she was using for her experiments and that she must have accidently set it off during their hug, Joan pushed Sherlock away from her. Sherlock’s eyes grew three times their size. She gasped quickly grabbing Joan and putting her head under a running facet. Joan coughed as the water rushed over her head.  
“Joan, are you alright?” Joan said nothing. She walked briskly into the parlor to look into the mirror. Little over a quarter of her golden bob was now burnt off and half off was hanging had be charcoaled black.  
“I’m sorry.” Sherlock said softly. Joan didn’t look at her. She just reached for her coat, pulling out her mobile, and preceding quietly toward the door of the flat.

* * *

Back at school Joan sat in her seat running her hand through her new haircut. Since most of her hair was burnt she had to get what was already a short style cut even shorter. Now her blonde hair was a boy cut and the other students did all they could that morning to make Joan feel embarrassed about it. In all actuality Joan didn’t mind the style. She thought it would be quite convenient and easy to take care of since Joan usually didn’t like to take to much time worrying about her appearance. Her classmates, however, decided to use her new appearance as an opportunity to harass her once more.  
Joan silently twiddled with her pen when she heard a growl from Anderson.  
“Miss Holmes this is the last time you will be late do you understand?”  
A hush of laughter swept over the classroom. “Settle down!” Anderson quipped. Joan refused to look up at her friend keeping her eyes fixed on the pen in her hand. She felt movement beside her as Sherlock sat down.  
“Hi.” Sherlock whispered. Joan didn’t look up. “I told you that I was sorry…” Joan sighed before looking up at the other girl to scold her, “How could you be so careless?” Joan stopped herself from saying anything more once she saw Sherlock. She was looking straight into Joan’s eyes with the same glaze in from the other day. She looked lost and afraid like exactly like she had in that moment, except for one thing. Her hair was shorter. Her black curls were cut to chin length and while it was flattering it was very different from her distinguished long tendrils.  
Joan took a deep breath and grinned, “I like your hair.” A look of relief washed over Sherlock’s face. “I’m sorry Joan. I should’ve been more careful. Really. It’s just, that thing you did. Nobody’s ever done that with me before. Well, maybe when I was a child but…” Sherlock’s face feigned arrogance, “Not that such a thing matters to me, you’re the first person I’ve ever called friend.”  
“Really? Even when you were a kid?” Joan asked.  
“Yeah, so?” Sherlock tried to sound defensive, but it was clear that she really wanted to open up to Joan.  
“Well, you’ve got me now. Sherlock, I’m sorry I called you an idiot…”  
“You didn’t call me an idiot” Sherlock interrupted, “You said I was silly.”  
“Well, I’m sorry for that. And I’m sorry that I made you feel bad.”  
Sherlock didn’t respond, but instead lunged at Joan and hugged her tightly. Joan could hear a mumble of inquiries from her peers and whispered to her friend “Well, now people will definitely talk.”  
“Hrm?” Sherlock was completely obviously to what Joan was insinuating.  
“You, me having matching haircuts and hugging in the middle of class. Says something, don’t you think?” Joan couldn’t believe she was being so brash, but she highly doubted that Sherlock would catch on.  
“I don’t know what you are talking about. We are participating in a traditional exchange of friends. Let them talk if they must.”  
Joan laughed as the two girls separated themselves from each other.


	8. Chapter 8

“Joan, please stop that before you break something.” Sherlock had entered the room seeing Joan bouncing a football on her knee.  
“I need to practice. I’m thinking about going out for the team.”  
Sherlock crossed her arms over her chest, “Why would you want to do that? You’re so much smarter than you give yourself credit for.”  
“What? I played back at my old school and I loved it! I was great at it too. It’s completely possible for a person to be both intelligent and athletic, you know.” Sherlock sighed snatching the ball from Joan.  
“I suppose you’d be the only proof I’ve seen of that then.” She said plopping herself on the couch. Sherlock fiddled with the ball. Joan joined her friend on the couch and the two girls chuckled while Sherlock stretched out her long arm holding the ball away from Joan.  
“Sherlock , please!”  
“Fine alright” Sherlock said handing the ball to her Joan. “When are the auditions?”  
“You mean tryouts, Sherlock.”  
“Whatever.”  
“And they’re tomorrow.”  
“Well then,” Sherlock turned toward the blonde, “best get some rest then, huh?”

The next day after school football tryouts were held. Afterward, Joan headed up into the bleachers to find Sherlock lying down in one of the aisles with her eyes closed and her hands folded over her chest. She kicked gently at Sherlock’s heel.  
“You dead?”  
“Don’t be ridiculous, Joan.” Sherlock mumbled. Joan wiped a mixture of sweat and dirt from her forehead  
“What are you doing here?”  
“I’m waiting for you, of course. I don’t see how you can stand this though. It’s so boring.” Sherlock lifted one of her arms. Joan raised an eyebrow, sighed, then grabbed Sherlock’s arm helping her to her feet.  
“Well, Sherlock, it’s much more entertaining if you actually watch.”  
“Now, why would I want to do that?” Sherlock smirked.  
“I’m not even going to try with you. I’m much too tired.”  
“Alright, well, when we get to the flat you can take a nap.” Joan thought this was a rather odd suggestion, but was so tired she didn’t think to reject the idea. Plus the possibility of sleeping while Sherlock was present was a comforting thought.  
The two headed to the lockers so that Joan could change out of her worn shorts and dirty old Smiths t-shirt. When they got there Sherlock followed her in and sat on the bench despite the looks shot at her from the other changing girls. Sherlock didn’t pay any attention to them though. She kept her eyes locked on Joan as she rambled off about how Joan’s time would be well spent doing something other than playing sports. Joan continued to ignore her while unlocking her locker. Joan struggled for a bit before she finally got it opened.  
Sherlock’s lecture was interrupted by a sharp scream from Joan. The blonde had taken a step back to allow the cold corpse of a girl about their age to plummet from the locker onto the linoleum floor. There was a moment of silence before the other girls started to scream as well and run out of the locker room in frenzy. Joan got on the floor to check the girl’s pulse.  
“She’s dead.” Looking up at Sherlock she could she a grin beginning to form on her friend’s face.  
“Yes!” She screamed beginning to jump up and down giddily. “Just brilliant! Well, it’s horrible, very tragic, but brilliant! Do you know what this means Joan?”  
Joan remained kneeling next to the corpse unable to move away.  
“There is a dead girl on the floor.” She whispered.  
“Yes, obviously I can see that Joan, but do you know what this dead girl means?”  
“There was a fucking dead girl in my locker and you’re acting like it’s Christmas!”  
“Joan! We found the body! This means I have a case!” And before Joan could question Sherlock as to what the hell she was talking about Sherlock had grabbed her face and planted a kiss onto her confused and terrified lips.  
Joan stood there in pure shock as Sherlock jumped up and down with glee. Joan shook off what just happened and returned to trying to figure out what Sherlock was going on about when the main door was slammed open.  
“You two!” Anderson entered and Joan grabbed Sherlock trying to pull her down from her jumps. “What are you two still doing here?”  
“She’s dead”  
“Yes, the police will be here shortly. Now come along!”  
“I’ll have to stay here to search for some evidence.” Sherlock said perhaps to calmly.  
“Shut up!” Anderson grabbed both of the girls by their arms and had began to drag them out “You two will have a lot of explaining to do!”  
Joan looked to Sherlock who had a smug look of annoyance on her face that changed into a grin when their eyes met. What was going on? Joan thought. Why can’t I get away from all of this?


	9. Chapter 9

The corridor was nearly silent with Joan sitting in an old, uncomfortable chair waiting outside of the headmaster’s office.  The only sound was a muffle of voices coming from within.  Sherlock had been pacing back and forth in front of Joan with one arm crossing over her chest while the other was raised up, holding her face in a thinking position.

“Sherlock?”

The taller girl ignored her and continued; the sound of her footsteps the only noise in the hall.

“Sherlock, what happened back there?”

“A girl was murder, Joan.” Sherlock replied without looking up.

“Yes, Sherlock.  What I mean is…” _Why did you kiss me?_   It came out of nowhere.  While saying that she hadn’t thought about it happening before would be a lie, Joan certainly didn’t want her first kiss to be in the middle of a crime scene.  Before she could finish asking her question she was interrupted by the slamming open of the office door.  A classmate of theirs stepped out.  Crying silently, she shot Joan a nasty look before continuing down the corridor.

“Come along then!” Anderson barked.  Joan got up from her chair and stepped into with Sherlock following behind. “Where do you think you’re going? Sit!”  Joan heard the door shut behind her, leaving Sherlock in the corridor with Anderson.

She had never been in the headmaster’s office before.  It was dimly lit and not as decorative as she assumed it to be.  “Please take a seat, love.”  Behind the desk was a woman with short, graying hair.  She cradled a Styrofoam cup of coffee in her hands while her feet were planted up on the desk.  “I’m detective inspector Lestrade.  And you must be…”  
“Joan Watson.”  Joan felt that she should be intimidated by the detective inspector, but found herself put off by the woman’s casual demur.  
“And you’re a new student here, is that right?”  
“Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh, please call me Gina.  Have you had any trouble situating yourself?  Any trouble with other students?  You’ve got any friends?”  
“Yes, just one or two”  
“That’s good, that’s good.  That’s all one ever really needs, yeah?  But hear me out for a bit.  Is there anyone who would want to hurt or intimidate you for any reason?  Schoolmates can be pretty nasty things from what I remember.”

Joan looked into her folded hands resting on her lap.  She didn’t know how to reply to Lestrade’s question.  On one had it would be true to say that she didn’t know of any present schoolmates that might have it out for her, yet on the other that was only true for the present moment.  The past may be creeping it’s way back into Joan’s life.

“Not that I know of, ma’am, but I did see something suspicious about a week ago.”

“Really?” Lestrade put her feet down and leaned in closer to hear Joan.  “Would you care to tell me?”  
“Well, there was a girl.  Tall, blonde, with a bit of a tan.  I didn’t get a good look at her face.  She wasn’t in uniform and I just couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t supposed to be here.  I didn’t really think anything of it at the time so I didn’t tell anyone.  Sorry.”

“Well, it’s a good thing that you’re telling us now.”  The detective inspector was about to continue on with her question when a loud muffled voice came from behind the door followed by it being slammed open.

“Don’t you dare go in there, you little wretch!”  
“Sherlock Holmes, how do you do?”  Sherlock said coolly as she waltzed up to Lestrade, extending her hand for a shake.  
“I’m so sorry, Detective Inspector!  I tried to stop her!”  
“Holmes?”  
“Ah!  So you’ve heard of me?”  
 _Oh, for bloody Pete’s sake, Sherlock!_  
“No, I have not,” she paused awkwardly, “but it’s my understanding that your sister is an important part of the government.”

“Yes, yes she is, but enough about her.  What happened today was very tragic indeed and I suspect that you’ll use only your best people to solve this crime.”

“You’re right, Miss Holmes.”  
“Well then, I’d be delighted to offer you my services!”  
“Oh, really?  And what exactly would that be?”  
“Well, along with attending school here I am more than capable of leading this investigation-” She was interrupted by a fit of laughter coming from Lestrade, who after she settled down stood up placing her hands on her hips and looked Sherlock straight in the face.  
“Miss Holmes, I’m sure you’re very intelligent.  However, the fact of remains that you-”  
“Detective Inspector…” Sherlock was now on the tips of her toes to meet Lestrade at eye level.  Sherlock was probably trying to seem intimating, but Joan thought she just looked out right ridiculous. “…Or should I say ‘Gina’.  You say that you’re familiar with my family.  Indeed you are familiar with a particular with a specific member of my family, aren’t you?  I would imagine that would make quite the scandal: Detective Inpector having an affair with a prime member of the British government.  And a lesbian affair no less.”

“Miss Holmes, are you attempting to blackmail me?  Because I can assure you that I, nor your sister, take too kindly to threats.  I suggest that unless you have something contribute to this investigation besides your ego that you head home.”  
Sherlock squinted and Joan could tell that she was concealing her embarrassment.  
“Alright then, come on, Joan.”  Joan stood up from her seat and exchanged a look with Lestrade that she hoped conveyed _I’m sorry about her_ and _all is forgiven_.  
“What the hell were you trying to do back there?” Joan started as soon as they were out of the office making there way down the hall.  
“Just trying to extend a hand of help.”  
“By what? Blackmail?  You could have gotten into trouble back there?”  
“I’m sure I will be in trouble with Mycroft at least.”  
“This isn’t fucking Nancy Drew, Sherlock!  This is a real crime that calls for real investigations!”  
“I can-”  
“No we can’t, Sherlock!”  Joan snapped.  
“We’re just kids.  I know and you know that you’re brilliant, but you aren’t a professional.”

“I will be someday” Sherlock whispered to herself solemnly.

“I know you will be.  I don’t doubt that, but right now let’s leave this to the police, okay?”  Joan grabbed Sherlock’s hand surprised at her forwardness with the gesture, though Sherlock wasn’t taken aback by it.  “Let’s go home.”


End file.
